


Hair Care for Dummies (Angels)

by Irrevocably_Sherlocked



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is sneaky, But Aziraphale really needs help, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Slash, a bit of silliness, and Crowley is soft, no really it is just cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 19:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20318434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irrevocably_Sherlocked/pseuds/Irrevocably_Sherlocked
Summary: Crowley raced towards the sound, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to find. “Azira—oh.” He stopped short. Aziraphale looked--different. “Angel? What has happened to your hair?!”Aziraphale tries something new and the results are worse, and better than he hoped.





	Hair Care for Dummies (Angels)

**Author's Note:**

> So this is just a bit of silliness. I really hope you all just enjoy this little bit of fluff for these two!
> 
> Huge thanks to [Sussexbound](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaLenore) and [geekoncaffeine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekoncaffeine/pseuds/geekoncaffeine) for making this so much better. 
> 
> And thank you to [MrsNoggin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsNoggin) and [Englandwouldfalljohn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/englandwouldfalljohn/pseuds/englandwouldfalljohn) for being two of the best supporters a person could have. Love you both!
> 
> Come find me on twitter at [astudyinsnoggy](https://twitter.com/astudyinsnoggy)

“Angel?”

Crowley popped his head into Aziraphale’s shop. He’d received a call from Aziraphale earlier, slightly panicked and a bit upset. He wouldn’t divulge more over the phone, just asked if Crowley ‘wouldn’t mind stopping by to help him sort something out’. Crowley was never one to deny Aziraphale anything, especially when the Angel was distressed, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Angel, are you in?” he called again, stepping inside. He dropped the box of crepes he brought on the counter and sauntered towards the back, glancing down each row as he went.

“Here,” a watery voice floated from the back.

Crowley raced towards it, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to find. “Azira—oh.” He stopped short. Aziraphale looked--different. “Angel? What has happened to your hair?!”

Aziraphale turned around, eyes wide and red.

“W-well, I was trying something new, you see....”

Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“Right, so I, well, I just,” Aziraphale waved his hand in the vicinity of his head, “made it longer. Curlier. Except—”

“Except you have no clue how to take care of it, and have ended up with a mess. Oh, Angel.”

“Precisely.”

Crowley continued to stare, his arms folded over his chest, admiring the disgruntled angel in front of him. His hair, well it was a nightmare, feral, for lack of a better word. It was longer than Crowley had ever seen it, curly and wavy in turns, and a frizzy, riotous mess. Crowley could tell Aziraphale had tried to do something to it, but whatever it was had decidedly been the wrong thing because it had left him looking like a blond, puffy dog.

Crowley shook his head, “Oh Aziraphale,” he started.

“Well! How was I supposed to know it’d be this difficult!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “After all,” he continued, much softer now, “Yours always looks so good.”

Crowley softened. Aziraphale thought he looked good?

“Will you...help me? Fix it, I mean?” Aziraphale asked quietly, looking at Crowley from under his lashes.

Crowley sighed. He could never resist Aziraphale when he looked at him like that. Not in 6000 years. He pushed off the wall, and eyed Aziraphale objectively.

“First things first, Angel. That brush—” they both watched as it disappeared with a loud snap. “There. Temptation gone. Secondly, the trick to curls is wash and air-dry. Never use heat.”

Aziraphale smiled as Crowley walked him through the steps of taking care of his new hairdo, which products to use, to avoid, how to keep the curls from going crazy and “poodle like” and the admonishment to ‘never ever scrunch, angel! Not even a bit!’

After the basics were taken care of, Crowley produced a replenishing hair mask. “Now this,” he said, “will help with the current mess you have. You will need to rewash and make sure you massage this in thoroughly, and let it sit for 20 minutes. And then you should be…tickety-boo.” Crowley smiled, handing over the jar of heavy crème.

“Oh. Right. Well that sounds easy enough, I suppose.” Aziraphale said, pouting a bit and looking down at his hands. “Thank you for your advice.”

Crowley blew out a sigh and pursed his lips. “I suppose I could, help, if you like?” Aziraphale’ s head snapped up.

“Oh, would you? That would be lovely,” he beamed.

Crowley slipped his jacket off, rolling up his sleeves. Aziraphale followed suit, removing his bow tie and loosening his shirt collar. Crowley swallowed with difficulty. The sight of that bare throat excited him more than he expected. He pulled a chair up to the kitchen sink, and bid Aziraphale to sit, helping him to rest his head against the basin. He slowly rinsed Aziraphale’s hair, running his fingers through to make sure all the strands were wet. Once satisfied, he scooped a dollop of the crème, rubbing it between his palms and massaging it into Aziraphale’s blond strands.

Crowley fought to keep his breathing even, tried to keep his heart from exploding in his chest as he rubbed his fingers across Aziraphale’s scalp. He’d waited for so long to be close to him, to touch him, and though the feel of Aziraphale’s skin, his hair, was setting every cell in his body aflame, he needed to calm down. This was only a necessity. A small service for a friend. Crowley had nearly gotten himself under control when Aziraphale let out a long, luxurious sigh, pushing his head further into Crowley’s hands. Crowley immediately froze.

“Oh that’s heavenly,” Aziraphale groaned, nuzzling closer. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes slowly, and Crowley felt the heat build as he slowly trailed his gaze upwards, until their eyes connected, leaving Crowley feeling electrified. And just like that, Crowley’s control snapped.

“Angel,” he whispered, lowering his head slowly, giving Aziraphale plenty of time to pull away.

“Yes,” Aziraphale whispered, seconds before their lips met.

Crowley’s mouth moved softly over Aziraphale’s, a tender brush, enough to learn its shape, to feel how soft it was, even better than it looked. Crowley sighed, pressing harder, his hands still tangled in Aziraphale’s hair, holding tight. Aziraphale whimpered, opening his mouth and Crowley tentatively pressed in, his tongue lightly sweeping against Aziraphale’s own, soft, and sweet. Crowley pulled away, waiting for Aziraphale to fully open his eyes.

“Finally.”

Crowley sputtered, removing his hands from Aziraphale’s hair and standing upright. “You mean all of this –”

“Well, I did want to try something new, my dear. And I _am_ quite fond of how it looks on you,” Aziraphale looked at Crowley beneath hooded eyes. “It appears we have 20 minutes to kill. Any ideas?”

“You mad bastard,” Crowley laughed, crowding in close and tipping Aziraphale’s chin up. “Yes, as a matter of fact, one or two ideas come to mind.”


End file.
